


2020 Grand Reopening of Hogwarts (Part 1)

by Sageandshit



Series: For Kristitha Schmistitha [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fanfic, a fanfic for a friend, kristy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 06:02:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21049511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sageandshit/pseuds/Sageandshit
Summary: It's 2020 and Hogwarts has invited the parents of the returning students to view the improvements made upon the legendary wizarding school.  Charlie Weasley- the unmarried Weasley no more- and his wife and child visit his old stomping grounds!





	2020 Grand Reopening of Hogwarts (Part 1)

“Hogwarts Welcomes you to it’s 2020 Grand Reopening!” Hadley toyed with the parchment, smiling warmly, and sipping her morning coffee. It was 5am and she would have to wrestle her son into a state of consciousness soon but she sat, savoring the moments of silence she stole for herself every morning. 

A groan came from the kitchen doorway and she felt a strong arm around her shoulders, across her neck and a tender kiss on the top of her short, wildly red hair. 

“G’morning, lovely.” Charlie whispered as he kissed her neck in multiples sending shivers down her spine as if she was still 22 years old and nervously figdeting on their first date until he took her hand in his. She just knew that her hair had turned a deep shade of smouldering burgundy. He ruffled it, lovingly. 

“Good morning.” She smiled up at him, enjoying his eyes, puffy with sleep, and his orange hair all wild and bed-ridden. 

“Is the anklebiter up yet?” Charlie faced the wall of the kitchen as he poured himself a cup of strong, black coffee. 

“I don’t know how much longer you’re going to call him an anklebiter. He’s half your size.” 

Charlie let out a whoop of a laugh before replying “In my mind I can still pick him up in one hand.” 

“No you can’t.” As if on cue a messy little blonde-headed boy hit the bottom of the wooden stairs and ran into the linoleum-floored kitchen, his bare feet slapping with every step towards his father.

“Argh.” Issued from his mouth as he pummeled into Charlie’s side. Hadley whispered a charm under her breath to keep Charlie’s coffee from flying out of the mug and she watched him steadily put the mug down, reach back and around, grab the waist of his 11-year-old son, and flip him upside down, swinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“Anyone want some Wade?” Charlie mimed a microphone as he stomped through the kitchen, filling the room with little boy giggles. “Wade, anyone? I’ve got some Wade for sale!” 

“How much?” Hadley asked, barely looking up from the Daily Prophet. 

“For you, pretty lady, four galleons.” 

“Hmm.” Hadley tutted. “Knock a galleon off and we’ll call it a deal.” She shrugged. 

“Hey!” Wade laughed. “Mum! I’m worth it!” His face was reddening with gravity. 

“Yeah!” Charlie agreed, pretending offence. “That’s my son you’re trying to bargain for!” He swung Wade down and kissed the top of his head. 

“Are you packed, Wade?” Hadley smiled at her son. His hair looked just like hers had until she was about 15 years old. Sometimes the Metamorphmagi gene blooms when hormones really take sway and sometimes they show from birth. She was a blooming type. She thought Wade would be too. 

“Almost.” His cheeks reddened. 

“Oh really? Is that why you woke up so early? To finish up?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?” 

“Good guess, little man.” Charlie beamed, sitting at the table across from Hadley and watching his coffee cup gracefully float over to him via nonverbal magic. 

“Oh! Wade, don’t wake up your sister. I don’t want nap time to be a nightmare.” Hadley called after him. 

“Promise!” He called back, his light feet seeming twenty pounds heavy as the thudded up the stairs. She winced. 

“I’m excited that we’re all invited to the grounds.” Charlie tapped her foot with his under the table. “You can see where I grew up.” 

“Undoubtedly they had to remodel since you had graduated- what, fifty years ago?” She smirked behind the paper, peeking out at him with a raised brow. 

“So funny, Wachter.” He playfully glared at her, using her maiden name. 

“I’ve been told I’m a treat.” She shrugged, nonchalantly, and went back to the news. 

“Mom!” Wade’s voice bellowed down the stairway. “Mom! I can’t find my lucky sweater!” A toddler’s gurgled cry followed shortly. 

“Jesus Christ.” Hadley rolled her eyes at her husband. “Your son. Every bit of him, I swear.” 

“Mom!” Wade screamed again. Hadley folded her paper, grabbed her coffee, and treaded up the stairs to find Wade’s favorite maroon sweater folded exactly in the spot she had left it for him the week before.


End file.
